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So this is a snapshot of Lisa and Stefano on the night of their instant restaurant. Stefano has the kind of dead-eyed look you’d expect from a hairy jester with an empty cranial cavity. Lisa, on the other hand, looks like she’s dealing with about a million thoughts a second: all of them involving dismemberment and extreme suffering.

Last night was her chance to turn that frown upside down – all our narky little Asian friends had to do was complete Mission Impossible: cook worse than Lisa and her chimpy little fiancee.

It didn’t happen. Rather than press out a trio of increasingly stenchworthy fanny gusts, Ashlee and Sophia served food that the other contestants could actually eat, and not just learn to laugh about post-stomach pump.

And, oh, were there some unhappy faces around the table.

Things didn’t start out looking so well for MKR’s most hated. An early blunder meant they had to take to the streets, threatening tabacconists who were just trying to take ten minutes for a quiet piss. Word must have gotten around, because girls were getting bitch slapped by closed doors all over the city until the Two Dollar Shop finally came to the rescue and sold them the blowtorch equivalent of a nuclear missile.

Back at the house the girls launch into their prep, leaving the set-up of their restaurant until last. They’ve named it ‘The Factory’ in salute to Andy Warhol and it’s a cracked-out mess of white tablecloth and miscellaneous garbage that looks like it fell off the back of a council verge collection truck.

As the guests approach, our Italian Ingenues, Angela and Melina, worry that their welcome at Casa Asian Whore will be less than sincere. Rico rolls a single blood-shot eyeball and snarks that these two need to take a leaf out of their husbands’ books and lower their expectations.

The contestants are seated and there’s some typical reactions to the fact that they are, essentially, eating their dinner surrounded by crap.

Dan hopes that everyone has had a Tetanus shot, which causes a great deal of mirth. Samuel then makes things a tad awkward when he says he’s ‘on the lookout for a junkyard dog’ and everyone makes side-eyes at Ali.

In the kitchen the girls have overheard some of the less than flattering commentary and think that Lisa needs to stop talking with with her ass lips because her restaurant ‘looked like a pinata threw up’. What they don’t realise is that a pinata really DID throw up because it had eaten Stefano’s mum’s food before and heard what was on the menu.

Before the judges arrive we get shown some footage of Pete being super excited by the menu – and, no doubt, by the hope of an improved version of the other day’s fight. When they actually roll up he comments on the ‘strange energy at the table’ which he hopes has more to do with the impending arrival of a rink-sized vat of jelly, and less to do with the cheap Absinthe that is being ridiculed around the table.

As the guests await the arrival of the entree they snark about the menu. Lisa says it is simple and that they won’t be waiting long. Nastassia, who is used to three hours of dough-pounding as a lead up to some dry fish, is surprised that not everyone likes to chew off their head to spite their brain.

The entree is a poached chicken salad and, much to Melina, Angela and Lisa’s horror, it looks very pretty. As the judges go in to taste it, Melina starts growling like a rabid dog over a pork chop – but despite her efforts to will dog into the food, the judges actually like it.

Our girls make haste back to the kitchen, leaving the guests to find fault and fuckery in every mouthful. Lisa’s lips are so folded over each other I’m shocked she can get a word out, but she manages in the form of ‘where’s the zing we were promised?’

Rico shrieks that Stefano will be whining those same words on his wedding night and then goes into convulsions trying not to asphyxiate on the combination of port and his own genius.

In the kitchen and the girls are struggling with some meat and batter. The meat is too tough and the batter is just fucking with them, and it’s only with the last few drops of coconut whatever that they get it right.

In the dining room the guests have been waiting for a loooong time and are getting restless. Kieron attempts to distract from the delay by demonstrating that he’s incapable of saying the word ‘vietnamese’ without sounding like his tongue is in the middle of a death wrestle with a giant dick.

Melina says she feels like going into the kitchen and giving the girls a little ‘helloooooo – it’s pancakes!’ nudge. Judging by Pete’s sudden look of excitement, I’m not the only one, but that Mufasa-looking bitch is all mouth and she’s about as on course to that kitchen as Samuel is to Ali’s musty crotch covers.

When the main finally arrives our girls looks stressed and what’s on the plate does look rather underwhelming. Angela immediately freaks out because the prawns haven’t been decapitated and she’d rather not accurately identify any family members.

Despite Sophia being nervous enough to spray her stomach contents to the skies, Pete adores it and names it ‘perfect and authentic’. Manu is also in the mood and while the compliments flow, Lisa and Melina grind their teeth to powder and Sophia makes cunty how-do-you-like-them-apples-you-leathery-old-bitch-eyes at Angela.

As the girls head back to the kitchen to work on the dessert, there’s a lot of prodding of prawn heads and other petty slaggery happening around the table. Lisa again demonstrates her singular ability to thrash about in a pool of her own contradictions by calling the dish ‘average’ and then describing both the entree and main as ‘failures’.

In the kitchen Sophia is struggling to brulee the brulee without waking up too many firemen. ‘It’s a flamethrower!’ she gasps and promptly turns the first one into the kind of black, shrivelled lump you’d expect to find beneath Lisa’s ribs. She gets the hang of it, however, and, with the exception of the utterly superfluous flower they bicker about and then decide to dump on the plate, it actually looks quite good.

As we knew he would, Manu immediately snarks about the flower being inedible and the potential for it to poison anyone who eats it. Stefano’s eyes light up briefly as though he’s just had an idea – but dumb as he is he’s incapable of finishing a thought, let alone acting on it, and the spark that might just have saved him from the most excrutiating honeymoon in history soon dies.

Aside from the flower, though, the judges love it. Being the stabby fuckers that they are, they would have preferred it to put up a bit more of a fight, but the insides are lovely and goey and Manu says he could happily strip down to his chesticles and roll in it like a horny pig.

To say some of the other diners look pissed is a tad of an understatement. Melina looks like she’s imagining Manu’s dick on a spit and Lisa’s lips have almost disappeared into her face. Still, she manages to call the dish ‘fairly average’ and complains that it ‘curdled’ when she ate it.

Rico reckons he’d do worse than curdle if it meant getting the hell out of her mouth.

Scoring comes around and, typically, the other contestants have confused ‘scoring’ with ‘shanking’ and are going in for the kill. Ali and Samuel who scored that fat mess Dan and his tattooed wife a 7 for serving up three plates of something you’d scrape off the the inside of a wheelie bin, give them a four, as do our Italian Mamas who – though mucho hating their little Asian guts – can’t bring themselves to completely forget that the food was actually pretty good.

Unlike Lisa and Stefano. ‘So, a zero or a one?’ Stefano asks, as though either score is a reasonable prospect. And though Lisa’s eyes are burning with the need to scream ‘FUCK this shit, we give those cunts a ZERO!’, she goes with a one because, even though she’s Satan’s personal Medusa with all the soul of a red-headed tax auditor, she’s not a COMPLETE bitch.

Not that it makes any difference. The show moves to Kitchen HQ and Pete and Manu don’t give anything under a six. Pete even scores the main a ten, leaving our Asian Invaders to crouch like snappy little spiders just below Samuel and Ali on the leader board.

Manu, always one to see that the knife is properly buried in to the hilt says: ‘Lisa and Stefano, your score remains the worst of the round’.

Lisa tries to hide her plans to burn the studio and every last one of these fuckers to the ground by thanking the judges for ‘the knowledge we have gained thus far’. As the two of them take their leave, Rico and I indulge in a moment of silence for Stefano, who will no doubt be lucky to see another dawn.